by Jay Solomon
Myers Heights is perched atop a hill overlooking the southern mouth of Cayuga Lake in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York. With its grassy acres and sweeping views of the bucolic countryside and placid waters, the tiny hamlet would be considered prime real estate in today’s market. “Scrape Off-Opportunity with Hundred Acre Wood” a listing might read.
Much has changed in the past sixty years. At the last mid-century mark Myers was a patchy settlement of dirt driveways, car ports, and factory houses built for Arab immigrants who labored deep beneath the lake bed mining rock salt. Neighbors burned their trash in fifty-five gallon drums and tossed their leftover meals over the side of the embankment. The half-composted food scraps germinated into a jungle of wild garlic, tomatoes, and mint interwoven with cattail, poison ivy, pricker bushes, and water-logged baseballs.
Read "The Hill"